


Tradition and silence.

by Babsroe



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4036627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babsroe/pseuds/Babsroe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the silence of his childhood there were Angels. Flightless, black winged. Rejected pieces of other people lives. In this world there were no catechisms, nor blessings of grace. Just things bound by tradition and silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I mean no offences to the real people. I'm literally taking this from the HBO series people. This is very sexual so yay for that. I don't own any people in this and shit like that. Have fun???

In the silence of his childhood there were Angels. Flightless, black winged. Rejected pieces of other people lives. In this world there were no catechisms, nor blessings of grace. Just things bound by tradition and silence.

Even through the loudness of his teenage years, through the throngs of laughter and drinks with friends and family, he saw them. Eyes hollow. Skin white, pulled taught across their bones. 

Angels. Or something else. And 'they will go' his mother had told him, yet here they stayed. Lurking in corners, yet not intimidatingly so. Just watching... Observing as life moves on around them, unseeing. Bliss ignorance, so to speak.

They didn't seem harmful you see, and that was the problem. It was eerie. Quiet whenever they were there even though the sounds of life moved on around them in hurried motion. It was a deafening silence that always seemed to drag him out of habit, staring off into the spaces they occupied. 

He was sure, at one point through his adolescent years, this being had attempted some sort of contact. An incessant whispering of incoherent words, jumbled together worthlessly, soon drowned out by sounds of the city life. Horns blaring and the constant drone of talking. 

But this attempt at contact happened only once, in the pubescent stages of his life when still gangly limbs were trying to keep sturdy on the walk to the dreadfully dull tones of school life. He had tried to decipher the message more than once. The words breathed into the air around him still etched into his brain. He had written them down, rearranged them copious times, yet still he could not understand them. 

They had started to appear more frequently in the recent years of his life. A sign of some kind, he had thought. Not one that he could ever figure out, surely, but a sign. It had become everywhere he travelled. There one would be, and to that truth, there one was. Sat in the corner, it's silence drowning out any other sound. 

He could feel someone nudging him to no avail as he stared at the... Creature. The angel. They had changed recently, though. They appeared to be smiling. Small.. Innocent you could say. But no. It was frightening. Something they had never been to him before. 

'George.' 

And for a second he thought it was the winged man. He blinked. Snapping back into the present world he could feel someones elbow nudging into his ribs. He looked up. 

'You back with me, George?' 

He nodded, glancing back over to where the angel once stood but saw nothing. Not a trace. 

'Yeah, Joe.. I'm here.' George said. Joe looked worried, like he always does when George blanks out, -unseeing to the dark figures in the corners of rooms. 

'You seeing them again?' His tone was calm, gentle as always. George nodded again, a small frown tugging on the corner of his lips. 

Joe had known. Of course he had known. George Luz and Joe Toye had been the definition of best friends since kindergarten, often found scuffling on the small field at the back of the old blackening flats. 

It was there that he had told him about the shadows of what people once were. He had broke down, shouting, screaming at the Angels that seemed to ignore him. Joe had been there, had seen it all. Had then sat him down in the overgrown grass and asked him what they were. 

George had been hesitant. Had thought Joe would deem him crazy but he had told him. Every aspect of it even. He told him the day when he can first remember seeing them. He told him that he remembered being confused but thought nothing of it. He told him that it had progressed over the years and that his own mother had told him that he was being stupid and had herself deemed him mental.

But it wasn't her opinion that mattered to him anymore, it was Joes. He had waited for a reply. Not daring to look in Joes direction. Not wanting to see the look on his face as he realised that George was twisted. 

'You don't believe me, do you?' George had said, mouth turning down into a frown. 

'Yeah George, I believe ya. Just wish you'd have told me sooner.' Joe had said and had gone to kneel in front if him on the grass. 

'Jesus George, it explains everything.' 

He can remember Joe looking sad, smiling at him through closed lips. It was just the two of them in the tiny café sat in a secluded corner of the building, dim antique lamps glowing softly over their faces. 

Joe doesn't understand what they are, or why they are and George supposes neither does he. He just knows that they are. George feels Joes arm snaking around his middle pulling him closer where they were sat side by side, presses a kiss into his hair.

'Do you want to go home?' Joe asks lowly, voice almost a whisper against his ear. 

'No I- We can't just leave somewhere every time I see them Joe...' George sighed, long, insufferable. 'I'm .. I should be used to it by now. Hell, Joe I've been seeing them since I was just a kid, they're just... It's weird not knowing what they are.' 

'Lets just go.' Joe, already standing, stretched out at hand for George to take, pulling him up from his comfortable slouch. 

The day was dreary. Spots of rain dripping from the weighty clouds, but not heavily so. Just a light sprinkling that sticks to their eyelashes as they walk hand in hand down the street. They were mostly silent on the way back home, winding swiftly down behind houses and shaded alleyways to short cut back to the aforementioned blackening flats where they had ended up living after there college graduation. 

They did everything together from their toddler years straight into their adult years. And at this moment, it included climbing the stairs. 

They reached their second floor apartment, 18B printed bold on the white painted door. It was Joe who unlocked it, ushering George in from the draughty corridor. It was Joe that didn't notice George had fallen to his knees in the hallway, eyes wide in a fearful shock. Horror and pain twisted into his face. 

'Hey George I was thinking we could-'

'Joe they followed me!' 

And they had. 

*

George was shaking. Vibrating would have been a better word to use. His breathing erratic, hyperventilating. His eyes darting around the hall looking at what Joe suspected to be each creatures face. He had frozen too at the sight of George on the floor. Heart beating frantically in his chest. 

Joe moved slowly, cautiously down the hall. He touched to top of George's head lightly. Softly bringing his fingers down across his cheek. He knelt in front of him, as he had done that day on the field. Cupped his face in both hands and gently dragged both thumbs across his lower lip. George's breathing had slowed dramatically to Joes ever gratefulness, though it was still more rapid than normal, his eyes locked with Joes- no longer searching the room for the sunken faces. 

A tear rolled free, Joes thumb quickly swiping it from his face. 

'Come on George. Let's get out of the hallway, yeah? I'll make some coffee.' George nodded, stood shakily and wobbled down the hall into the kitchen. Joe perched him on a stool, turning for just a second to switch the kettle on, already full of water from that morning. 

When he turned back George was watching him thoughtfully, eyes red rimmed and face tear stained. The stools were tall, so George was only a little shorter than him when Joe stepped up to him. Joe wrapped his arms around George's neck silently, burying his face into it, kissing him there once, mumbling 'I'm sorry' before nosing his way up the stretch of pale skin. He kissed his jaw too, while he was there but then he heard the flick of the kettle and the bubbling sound calmed, so he let go of George and turned to prepare the drinks. 

George watched Joe. He watched the way he moved around the kitchen. He watched the way his back muscles moved as he stirred the boiling liquid. He took his mug from Joe, standing to follow him into the living area and dropped himself carefully onto the couch, exhausted. Joe sat next to him, pressing their thighs together. A warming comfort of the weary morning just had, on both parts. 

'Why-' Joe started, abruptly breaking the silence. He took a sip from his steaming cup and tried again, George's attention on him. 

'Were they different?' Joe asked. George tilted his head, confused. 

'Were what different?' 

'The things... The things that you see. Were they different?' 

'No. They were the same I- why?' George asked, leaning to place his mug on the table. Joe leaned to do the same. 

'You never- you said you've seen them since you were a kid right and-' 

'Look Joe if you don't believe me then I-' 

'George just.. Just hear me out yeah?' George nodded. 'Okay so, you said you've seen them since you were a kid and I've been with ya since kindergarten right, and I've known about this since we were 12 but I've only seen you.. Jesus how do I say this.' 

'Joe-'

'You've never seemed scared of them, but today. In the hall you seemed... Why? Have they changed?'

'No Joe they haven't changed. They just... They came in here and I don't-' 

Swallowing back the wave of tears George turned, reaching for Joes hand. 

'I don't want them to hurt you, Joe.' 

Unwanted tears freed themselves from the confines of his eyes. 

'Please don't let them hurt you.' 

** 

The Angels didn't return and George became more and more relaxed as the day ventured into night. They had done all of the things on the checklist of shit that day. Had watched terrible television, even going so low as to watch reruns of Geordie shore. They had gotten takeout- Chinese because of George's repeated whining of 'We had pizza last time.' Not that he was complaining then. 

'I'm bored.' A phrase thrown around on a daily basis had become one of the most irritating things in mere hours. The continuous mumbles of the words constantly tumbling from George's mouth mindlessly. 

'I'm-' 

'George I swear to God if you say you're bored one more time I'm gonna sock you in the jaw.' 

George was upside down on the sofa, reinforcing his boredom in the light of his childishness. 

'I'm honestly offended. You should get some brass knuckles Joe, you could hurt your knuckles from all these fist fights.' 

Joe nodded in consideration. 'I could use some of those. Now get up, all the bloods gonna rush to your head.' 

George rolled his eyes dramatically, but he sat up anyway. Blinking in dizziness he looked at Joe crosseyed. He sat leaning against the arm of the sofa, his legs sprawled comfortably over Joes lap. 

'I know you said don't say it but, I'm still bored.' 

Joe growled a sigh, palming his hand over George's face. 'Fuck you.' He grumbled. 

A quiet, 'If you want.' Was retorted, muffled by Joes large hand. George licked Joes palm, laughing when he moved his hand from in front of his face to wipe it mock disgustedly on George's T-shirt. 

'Well,' Joe said suddenly. Expectantly. 'C'mere then.' 

George heaved himself up, slinging a leg over both of Joes, positioning himself easily in Joes lap. This way George had to look down at Joe. 

'What do you want, Joe? I was comfortable.' George said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. 

'Shut up, Luz.' 

Joe put both hands on George's shoulders, pulling him down a few centimetres. Moments like this were seldom seen between the two, usually kept hidden in the walls of their apartment building. A brush of thumbs across lightly tanned cheekbones, noses nudging softly together in the comfort of their rented home. 

'Joe-' 

'You better not say you're bored or I'll-' 

'I love you, Joe. You know that, right?' George said, cutting Joe off mid sentence to stop his needless ramblings. Joe nodded happily, wrapping his arms around George's waist, fingers linking behind his back. 

'Good... Come on.' George stood up, reaching out a hand to help Joe up from the sofa. 

'Why? What are we doing?' 

'I'm bored.' George snickered, tugging Joe towards the bedroom. He could hear Joe mumbling behind him, something about swearing to God the Lord our saviour he will kill him one day. Though George knows he is joking as that phrase is often used by many when in the jolly boys company. George flicked the light switch on the way in, lighting up the room in a dim orange glow. He shut the door, turned to look at a confused Joe and smiled. 

'Just get on the bed.' George said, pressing a cold hand to Joes clothed chest and pushing him backwards on to fresh cotton sheets. 

Dodging the items of clothes on the floor and taking a near miss with an upstanding plug and his foot George crawled onto the bed on all fours, towering over Joe. A sharp sound broke the heated silence, a vibration sounding rough in the quiet. 

'Ignore it,' Joe said, leaning up on his elbows to kiss George square on his lips. 

'Hmm I don't know... Could be important.' He said but made no effort to get it. 'It might be Dick.' 

'George don't fucking tease me.' Joe growled, grabbing George by his waist and flipping them over. 

He leaned down to kiss him, long and deep, trailing his lips down his jaw and neck. He tugged at the bottom of George's T-shirt, pulling the material up and over his head. The phone vibrated in earnest on the desk. George reached over to grab it, checking the screen for the ID. True to his word it was Dick. 

'He's inviting us for drinks... Weird for Dick but still, drinks!' 

Joe groaned, grinding down with fervour. 

'Put the phone back on the table, Luz.' 

He did as he was told but not without sarcastically retorting, 'I don't know, Toye. I think we should- Jesus. I think we should go cause we haven't seen them in a while and-' 

Joe sighed long and loud. Taking George's wrists, one in each calloused hand, pressing them deep into the springy mattress. 

'Kinky.' 

'Shut up, George.' 

The phone vibrated again on the table, this time long and repetitive. 

'Don't think about it, Georgey. You're mine for a while.' Joe teased, pressing a light fluttering kiss to his nose. 

Joes shirt was the second thing to come off, being flung mindlessly into the corner of the room, most likely knocking over the empty bottles left stranded on the desk. 

George whistled, 'Jesus, Joe. You been workin' out?' 

Joe had released his wrists from his grip which allowed George to run his hands over Joes bulging arms. He reached, fingers curling around Joes dog tags, pulling him down the few painfully long inches to kiss him. His other hand making its way downwards, a sinful trail. Joe closed a hand around George's, pressing his hand harder, just the right amount of pressure, fingers interlinked. 

'I wanna...' George said, removing his hand from Joes grip and pressing it against his bare chase to get him to kneel. He flipped them and gently pushed Joe into the bed, backwards army crawling down his body until he got to the top of his sinfully tight jeans. George undid them with skilled fingers, tugging them half way down Joes thighs, mouthing wetly at the clothed bulge. 

'Holy shit.' Joe breathed, sucking in a sharp breath, fingers twisting into George's wilting hair. Hips jolting up at his attention. He whined, tugging vigorously on the strands of hair wrapped around his fingers. George keened, hands reaching up to grab at Joes wrists.

'You know I love that.' George breathed, lowering his hands to Joes stomach, running his palms up and down his body. He pulled Joes boxers down to where his jeans were still bunched at his thighs. 

'Jesus Christ.' George huffed, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned forward, sliding his lips base to tip. The phone vibrated again on the table and Joe groaned, reaching over to answer it. 

'Hello.' Joe spoke angrily into the phone. George saw his chance. Took Joe into his mouth going down, down. The tip hitting the back of his throat he swallowed around him. Joes voice faltered on the phone. 

'Listen I'm a bit busy.' Joe snapped. His free hand twisting into George's hair again as he bobbed his head, nuzzling his nose into the hair at the base of his dick. 

'No I'm not I just- fuck yes- no I am most definitely not getting a blowjob, Nix.' 

George could hear the muted sound of chatter on the other end of the line, though he could not make out what was being said. Then he had an idea. He pulled off, much to Joes discontent. 

But when he mouthed, 'Fuck my face.' Joe nearly choked. The look on Joes face nearly had George crying in laughter. It probably would have had he not had more pressing matters on his hands. George took Joe back into his mouth, sucking lightly. 

'I swear I'm not.. We can't- no it's not because of that... No Nix. ' Joe was still attempting to convince Nix that they weren't having sex while he was on the phone to him when he started moving his hips, slow at first. Hesitant. George got his hands under Joes thighs, trying to get him to go faster. Joe grunted, speeding up, his hand still folded into George's hair. 

'Nixon I swear we aren't - shit George where did you learn that!' 

George could hear the shriek on the other side, nearly choking at the sound. 

'We will come later- Nix stop screaming. Fuck- woah dude don't tell the entire estate. We'll come later. Goodbye Lewis.' 

Joe put the phone back on the table. 'You fucking monster.' He growled, twining his other hand in George's hair. He tugged roughly fucking up into his slack mouth. George muffled a groan, eyes brimming with tears. 

He ran his hands down Joes sides, finger nails leaving raised red trails in their path. He gasped for breath, one fist bunching in the sheets, the other moving to press down on Joes erratic hips to slow his movements. He sighed through his nose, pulling off long and slow. 

'Holy shit.' George gasped, resting his forehead against Joes hip and exhaling hard. His voice was rough, grating around his words. Joes hands still wrapped in his hair pulled him up the length of his body, kissing him deeply. 

'You are amazing.' 

George smirked, kissing Joes neck, his throat, his chest. Joe slid his hands into George's pants, taking hold of his dick in the confined space. 

'Oh.' George gasped, thrusting up into Joes fist, head falling to rest on Joes collarbone. 'Jesus fucking Christ.' 

'Take your jeans off.' Joe ordered, removing his hands from the chafing material. George did. Shucking them down his thighs along with his boxers. 

Joe flipped them over so he was looking down at him. 'Touch me...Please.' 

Joe smirked and wrapped a hand around his length, tugging at a leisurely pace. The phone vibrated again on the table. It was Bill this time, George noted. Probably heard from Nixon about the whole thing. He was never one to keep his mouth shut. 

'Shit, George. You'd better not answer that.' 

'I'm not, Jesus... I fucking will if you don't hurry the fuck up- shit Joe. Don't stop..' Eyes half shut, a smirk on his lips Joe moved his hand quicker. 'Shit don't stop.. I'm gonna- I'm gonna come don't stop.'

George curled in on himself, one hand pressed to the back of Joes neck, mouth open in a silent scream as he came. Joes hand did not falter, wringing George of every last nerve of energy. 

'St- stop Joe. I...' George panted, chest rising and falling in hurried pace. Joes hand slowed to a long, deliberate slide, never halting his actions. Joe was staring at him adoringly, a small smile playing on his lips. 

'You're so beautiful.' He whispered. George tried to bat Joes still moving hand away from him so he could grab hold of Joes dick. 

'You're still hard.' George commented, his fingers ghosting over Joes length. 'Lemme fix that.' George rolled them over, taking Joe back into his mouth. Joe took both of his wrists in one hand, holding them to his chest, pinning them above George's bobbing head. His other hand resuming its place in his hair. George whined around his dick, bobbing his head faster. Joe came shortly after, pressing himself deep into the heat of George's mouth and staying there, riding out his orgasm. 

***

The phone shuddered heavily on the table, shocking George from his comfortable slumber. He moved carefully in his position on top of Joes chest not wanting to wake him and took the phone from the nightstand. He answered it, a whisper of 'Hello?' Into the receiver, nestling back into Joes warm chest. 

It was Bill again. 'George! Ya finally done fucking Joe for one minute? We need ya here.' 

George stifled a yawn, pressing his face into Joes neck. 

'More like the other way around.' George snickered, then continued, 'I don't think we're coming out tonight, Bill. No we- We aren't starting round two. Jesus Bill he's asleep... that's just weird. I am not waking him up like that. Where did you even- do you kiss your mother with that mouth? No we aren't coming. You'll live.. Bye- Goodbye.' 

Joe shifted in his sleep, wrapping both arms around George's neck, pulling him tight against his chest. 

'Go back to sleep, George.' And George complied, pressing his face back into Joes neck and closing his eyes. He twisted their legs together, lying full on top of him. 

'M'kay.' George sighed. He pulled the covers further up around his waist, the paleness of his skin contrasting with the white of the sheets and the tanned body beneath him. 

When he woke again it was early the next morning. He had been carefully rolled onto his side and the covers were pulled to his chin. He rolled onto his chest leaning to check to time on his phone, the brightness blinding him for a second. He could hear the muted sprinkling of water and thudding movement of Joe in the shower. He smiled lightly pushing himself from his pleasant position on the bed, ambling into the steaming bathroom. 

He climbed into the cramped shower behind Joe, wrapping his arms around his slick figure. Leaning back against him Joe sighed. 

'Bill's gonna kill us.' 

*****

'Georgey!' Joe shouted from the kitchen, 'where's the coffee?!' 

'Should be in the cupboard.' George spoke from behind him, 'No need to shout.' 

'Wh- I though you was in the bedroom.. Anyway it's not in the cupboard.' 

Joe turned back and scrambled through the cupboards, knocking tins and packets from their respective shelves. 

'There's no fucking coffee.' Joe groaned and turned to face George who was lighting a cigarette. He was still shirtless from the shower not bothering to get fully dressed. He took a drag, blowing the smoke out through his nose. 

'Fuck.' 

Joe slid smoothly over the top of the rickety island in the middle of the kitchen, hopping down from the marble-like design to stop in front of George. He took the cigarette, glaring at it childishly before taking a drag. 

'You are a monster, George Luz.' 

He kissed George, puffing the smoke into his mouth as he did so. 

Pulling away he said 'I'm going getting coffee. You want anything?' 

'Pack of smokes...' George said around the cigarette, finally buttoning his jeans. 'I think I'll need um' He said as an after thought, smirking and turning to walk into their bedroom. 

Joe left, the flat turning silent after the distant thunder of Joes footsteps on the stairs could no longer be heard. George yawned and, scratching his stomach flopped backwards onto the bed. His phone buzzed with yet another message from Bill. 

Sighing loudly he picked up his phone and read the multiple text messages sent from not only Bill, but Nixon and even Dick. He shot a text to all of them noting that yes, they were coming out tonight and no they were not having sex at that moment in time. The next thing he knew there were three people barging through his front door. 

'Georgey boy!' Bill hollered, his voice echoing through the tiny apartment. 'We found poor little Joseph at the shops all by himself.' 

George groaned wiping a hand over his face. 'He better have got my smokes.' 

George picked up a T-shirt from the floor and slid it on. 

'Yeah he did. And some Mars Bars, one of those better be for me.' Bill grumbled. George flopped into Joes lap where he was sat in the arm chair. Joe let out a grunt of air at the sudden weight on his body. 

'Keep your hands of my chocolate, Bill, or I swear to God..' 

'Alright, alright. I'll starve!' 

George rolled his eyes at Bills dramatics, wrapping his arms mindlessly around Joes neck. 

'Where is your coffee?' Nixon piped up from the kitchen, popping his head around the door frame. Joe leaned forwards, one hand pressed firmly to George's back so he wouldn't fall and grabbed the coffee jar. He tossed it to Nixon calling 'Two sugars.' After the flying object. 

'George?' Joe asked questioningly. 

'Yeah?' 

'Is that my shirt?' 

George looked down and shrugged. 'Probably.. I don't know. Found it on the floor so more than likely, yeah.' 

'Coffee two for both of you,' Nixon interrupted, placing the mugs down on the small rectangular table. 'One sugar, extra milky for you, Bill.' 

George picked up Joes coffee, handing him the steaming mug before stretching out to reach his own. They all sat in a comfortable silence for a while until Nixon spoke up. 

He placed his mug on the table, posing thoughtfully, 'You weren't actually erm... You weren't giving- I mean having-' 

'Unfortunately for you, yes we were.' 

Nixon wailed a cry-like sound that echoed through the apartment. 

'That is just gross. You know what? I'm not even offended that you didn't answer me last night.' Bill commented, 'But I mean I'm sorry they put you through that, Nix. I presume you need therapy now?' 

He looked at George and Joe, 'You're paying for that.' 

'I can't believe you would do that, guys... And without me?' Lewis said, disbelief threaded through his voice. 'After everything we've been through.' He wiped a fake tear from his face. 

'Anyway, the reason for our delightful yet unexpected visit? You two are coming for drinks tonight down at Kelso's.' He stood, along with Bill and walked to the door. '0800, don't be late!' He mock saluted the two before ushering Bill out of the door. venturing into the chilly winter air. 

George bent over to take his cigarettes from the floor. He opened the packet of smokes. 

'Lucky Strikes means worlds finest tobacco.' He mumbled to himself, ripping open the packet and putting one in his mouth. He lit it, the end of the stick glowing orange. He took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds, blowing the smoke dragon style from his nose. Joe was watching him, his stare was intense and the hand resting on George's back had curled into his T-shirt. 

George shuffled around carefully before slinging his legs over the side of the chair and leaning back onto the opposite arm. Joe brushed his knuckles on the sliver of skin where his shirt had rode up. George blew smoke into the air, clouding the space around them. 

'Joe?' George asked around a puff of smoke. 

'Yeah, George?' 

George turned his head to the side, pushing himself over to kiss Joes neck. Joe tilted his head to the side to give George more room. George took a puff from his cigarette and hid his face in Joes neck, blowing out the smoke against his throat. He felt the nervous bob of Joes Adam's apple against his cheek and smirked.

'You really like it when I smoke?'

Joe nodded his head, yes, his chin knocking against the side of George's face softly. George pulled back to look at Joe, blowing out smoke as he spoke. 

'Great.. You wanna go to the bedroom?' 

Joe nodded his head again, practically hauling George off of the chair with him and almost carrying him the short way to the bedroom. He flung him on the bed, Careful of the still lit smoke despite it being almost worn down to the filter. George put out the cigarette in the ashtray on the table then turned so he was leaned on his elbows. He pulled the pack of crumpled lucky strikes out of his pocket, taking one out and flinging the box to the side. He put it in his mouth, smirking as he lit it before throwing the lighter the same way. 

'Not got all day, babe.' George remarked from the bed. Joe glared from where he was stood near the door. He took his shirt off, tugging it by the back of his collar. George did the same, mindful of the burning cigarette and looked at Joe expectantly. 

Joe crawled onto the bed and up George's body, taking the cigarette from his mouth so he could kiss him. 

'What can I say? You look hot when you smoke.' He mumbled, eyes flitting over George's face. He took a drag of the cigarette, then leaned down, breathing the smoke onto George's pale skin. 

'How long we got till we have to go?' George asked, stroking a hand through Joes hair where he was making his way down George's stomach. 

'I don't know, George, I'm kinda busy here.' 

George stole the smoke from Joes fingers, inhaling the taste of tobacco. He turned his head to look at the clock on the wall. 

'We got an hour and a half.' 

'I can work with that.' Joe said, pressing the heel of his hand into George's crotch. George whined, putting the cigarette back in his mouth so he could run both hands through Joes dark hair. 

'Fuck.' George breathed around the smoke. 

'I'm tryin.' Joe whispered, more to himself than to George as he unbuttoned his jeans; tugging them down his legs. He rubbed his palms over each hip, bending to nip at each of his thighs. Smoothing over each red angry mark with his tongue. 

'Ah, Joe I'm wearing jeans later that's- shit- that's gonna rub.' 

Joe looked up, smirked. 'Good.' 

George moaned, bucking his hips into thin air, Joes attention still on George's milky white thighs. He bit down on the soft flesh roughly, sucking a bright mark onto the inside of his leg. Smoothing over it with one hand he took George's dick in his other. 

'You like that, huh?' Joe said, eyebrows raised smugly, a winning grin on his face. He stroked George slowly, meaningfully. 

'Come on, Joe we only have an hour and a quarter.' George whined childishly, taking a final drag from his lucky strike before setting it out on the table. 

'George if you don't shut up I'll shut you up.' 

'Yeah? Will you?' George breathed cockily, lifting himself to his elbows. Joe pushed him back down onto the bed, kissed him roughly growling 'Yes.' Against his lips. 

George made to wrap his arms around Joes neck but was abruptly stopped mid air, both hands being pressed into the mattress; fingers interlinked. 

'No touching.' 

'But-' 

'No touching.' The command was firm- serious- and George obeyed, arms going lax in their light struggle. George shifted his hips, his dick brushing against Joes solid stomach. 

'Don't move.' Joe said, releasing George's hands from his grip, instead choosing to run his fingers lightly down George's body. George tensed, curling his fingers into the sheets where Joe had left them. He took George's dick in both hands, sliding them smoothly over the length. 

'Fuck, Joe. Please.' George whined, shifting his hips at the sensation. 

'I said don't move.' Joe warned, using one hand to press George's hips back into the bed. 

'Sorry- I'm I won't just.. Please just- oh.' George didn't hear the click of the lube bottle, jolting at the sudden intrusion, hips jumping from the mattress unexpectedly, without meaning to. George told Joe as much. 

'I didn't mean to, please don't stop.' George's eyes were wide, his voice thick with pleasure. Joe added another finger deciding to ignore George's ramblings, taking them as truthful. 

Three fingers in George groaned, twisting his hands in the sheets where, to his promise, they had stayed. 

'I'm ready.. Please I'm ready.' He gasped, turning his head to bite into his own arm. 

Joe grabbed his chin, turning it away from where his teeth were indenting his arm. 

'No,' he said softly, stroking a thumb down George's sweat slicked cheek. 'You're ready when I say you are.' 

George whined desperately, trying his hardest not to move with Joes fingers tucked deep inside him. 

'Please?' He tried again, a final weak attempt at trying to sway Joes decision. But Joe shook his head, no and carried on with his torture. 

Joe only lasted a few minutes after that. And even though he knew the answer he asked George anyway. 

Joe pushed in on one steady slide, bottoming out and staying there for a minute, waiting for George's breathing to level out. He ran his hands through George's hair calmingly, up his arms linking their fingers together as he pulled out half way and pushed back in again. 

'Harder.' George groaned. Joe lifted George up by the backs of his thighs, jerking his hips at a faster pace. 

'Come on, Joe. I wanna feel it.' George stuttered, breath hitching. Joe growled, picking up speed. 

'Yes.' George breathed. His hands were still twisted in the covers where Joe had left them. 'Can I- can I move. Please. I need to-' 

'You can move,' Joe grunted, 'Don't touch yourself.' 

George keened, choosing to grab Joes forearm instead. 

'Please.' George whined. Finger nails digging into Joes wrist. 

'No.' Joe snapped. 'You come like this or you don't come at all.' 

George heaved a sob, shaking his head. 

'I can't.' George cried. 'I can't.' 

Joe ignored him, took his shoulder in his hand and thrust harder, deeper. George choked a gasp. He pressed his free hand flat to the headboard. 

'I'm gonna come. Can I- can I come?' 

'Yeah. Come on, you can do it.. Come for me, George.' 

George arched, jaw slack, eyes distant and glazed. 

'Good boy.. You did so good.' Joe breathed, pulling out and wrapping a hand around his dick. He jerked himself off quickly, coming on George's still heaving stomach. Joe lied down next to George in the bed running a hand through his hair. 

'George, you did so well. Can you hear me? I love you Georgey. You did so good, you're so good.' 

George turned on his side, wincing. He huddled himself closer to Joe trying to share body heat. 

'Cold.' George sniffed. Joe pulled the covers out from under them, blanketing them both and wrapping his arms around George's shivering body. 

'You okay?' Joe whispered against George's hair. George nodded against Joes chest, huffing out a pleased sigh. 

'How long've we got left?' George said around a yawn, trying to push himself closer to Joe. 

'About 45 minutes.' 

'We should.. We should shower.' 

'You sleep, I'll shower. Wake you up when I'm done yeah?' 

George was already asleep, breath even, fingers curled in the blankets. 

******

Two rounds of beers and 3 shots in Joe sees George, frozen in place. Eyes fixed on Joe. 

His stare was unwavering, unblinking. 

Eyes hollow, skin pulled taught across their withering faces, crumbling lips drawn into a small innocent smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the silence of his childhood there were Angels. Flightless, black winged. Rejected pieces of other people lives. In this world there were no catechisms, nor blessings of grace. Just things bound by tradition and silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this all on mobile and I haven't checked it for spelling mistakes and it probably sucks ass but I had to post it bc it's been like 2 months oop.

The bars noises were falling on deaf ears as George watched the angel ghost it's way across Joe and over into the far corner of the wall. He was frozen in his place for a few seconds, watching the thing turn its head and smile almost peacefully at him before disappearing completely through the wall. George knew, even before he had initially started seeing the Angels that many people that died on earth did not leave without having things that they had not done while they were alive. Things that they wanted to fix. And that is what George believed they were. Fragments of people's lives that they had not fulfilled in their time on this planet. The major problem was that George had no idea what they wanted from him. 

When the angel vanished through the far wall of the bar George stood, mumbled something about a cigarette before he edged his way out of the bar. He tried to light a cigarette with shaking hands, grunting frustratedly when he failed. He flicked the cigarette to the ground only to have another one placed in between his lips lit. He smiled sadly at Joe, silently thanking him. 

'You should be in there with everyone else.' George said, though he leaned heavily into the warmth of Joe's side when he stood next to him. Joe shook his head. 

'No fun when you're out here wasting you're luckies.' He said, 'And it's your round so...' He knocked his shoulder jokingly against George's. 

'Actually it's your round, Toye. I got the last one.' 

'Eh, who's keepin' track?' Joe said. 

'Me. And you're buying.' George said, standing on his cigarette to put it out before he walked towards the door. Joe caught him by the front of his shirt and pulled him close. 

'Luz,' he breathed. 'Just get me a drink.' 

George smiled widely. 'Hell of an idea Joe.' He said and pushed his way back into the building and over to the bar while Joe made his way back to the overly loud group of people on the far end of the pub. When George came back with a tray of drinks he placed Joe's purposely in front of him and then placed the rest in the middle of the table. 

George sat himself in Joe's lap and picked up his beer taking a long drink from it before handing it to Joe. Joe wrapped an arm around George's waist as he drank, ignoring the scoff from Bill at the side of them. 

'Hey George, who's that kid at the bar talkin' to Roe?' Bill asked, craning his neck to look at the boy. 

'Babe or somethin'. Hangs around with Spina and that other kid Julian. Lives in Front Street I think.' Recognition washed over Bills features. 

'Heffron. Yeah I know him. My Ma told me to watch out for him.' Bill stood from the table, making a disgusted noise as he watched George feed Joe a nut from one of the packets on the table. 'Bunch o' saps.' He said before he hobbled to the bar, trying his best to squeeze past the large cluster of people near the doors. 

'You Babe?' Bill asked when he finally got to Babe. 

'Who's asking?' He said defensively. 

'I'm Bill Guarnere. 17th Street.' 

'No kiddin'.' Babe said, taking Bills outstretched hand and shaking it jovially. George watched the two at the bar for a minute to make sure Bill didn't get into yet another bar fight before he turned back to the growing conversation behind him. Joe was leaning across the table to flick Nixon on the head while Nix was trying his best to lean away in the small space, pushing back into Dick from where he was sat next to him. Bill came back soon after, Babe hot on his tail. 

'Guys. This is Babe.' Bill introduced and took his original seat around the table, pulling one out for Babe to sit in. Babe was welcomed to the group as if he had always been in it and towards the end of the night he was talking loudly amongst the men and taking a daring amount of shots with Nixon and Joe. Some one from the middle of the sea of people had bet Babe that he could not out drink Nixon and to make the bet at least fair he would have to out drink one of the other boys too. Of course that meant Joe. 

Seven shots in Eugene came over to the table. The walk was easier as the bar had cleared as the night went on. Babe was half slumped over the table, his next shot held shakily in his right hand. 

'What'd you do to him?' Gene sighed, picking up a few empty glasses. 

'We bet him he couldn't out drink Nixon and Joe.' George said, watching in amusement as all three downed yet another shot. 

'I'm losing.' Babe said from next to him. 'I'm on seven and they are on nine... Ten.' He amended as the two other boys drank yet another. 'That's it I can't take it!' Babe said dramatically, slamming his final empty glass to the table. 'You win.' Half of the men cheered while half groaned and took money from their pockets, handing it to the winners of the bet. George took his wad and stuffed it in his pocket. Babe looked at him betrayed. 

Gene looked to Bill. 'I said don't break him.' He drawled then sauntered back to the bar, a tall pile of empty glasses in his arms. 

'How can you guys still drink?' Babe said in disbelieve as Joe and Nixon went back to sipping on their beers. Everyone laughed but gave no explanation and Babe didn't press for an answer. Gene came back with a glass of water and placed it in front of Babe. 

'Drink this.' He said and walked back to the bar to serve waiting customers. Babe did as he was told without question, completely oblivious to the knowing looks being shared around the table. 

The number of people in the bar dwindled down until it was just Babe, George, Joe, Nix and Dick, though Nixon and Dick were saying their goodbyes to the others and making their way through the tables to leave. 

It was around two in the morning and the night was black. Eugene was finally shutting up and the three boys stumbled into the street. The bar was not really occupied by any neighbouring houses so being quiet wasn't really a necessity as they were mainly shops and beauty parlours that had shut long before the bar had its first few guests of the night. 

Eugene followed them out and made his way over to the giggling group stood in the middle of the street. He come to stop next to Babe who took Genes hand in his own. Gene looked down at their hands and looked up when he heard Joe groan. George was smirking as Joe handed him a roll of money. Babe look at George wide eyed. 

'Do you guys bet on everything?' 

George nodded and Joe shrugged. 'I don't know why I bother, he always wins.' They all turned and started to walk down the street together. They walked relatively silently, Gene stopping Babe from falling more than once on the short walk back to the apartment block where Eugene, George and Joe all lived. Babe was tagging along even though he had insisted that he was fine walking home. 

The walk up the stairs was filled with laughter and Genes long insufferable sighs. Eugene was relieved to hit their floor and he practically dragged Babe away from the other two to his door. George made a comment about Gene being eager, laughing as he stuck his finger up at the two and pushed Babe through the open door. 

'Home sweet home.' George sighed, crowding behind Joe and kissing his neck as Joe shut the door and locked it. Joe wobbled slightly on his feet, the many shots consumed finally taking their toll. He wondered momentarily how Nixon was holding up under the amount of alcohol he had had throughout the night. 

He turned around quickly and pushed George against the door. 'I want pancakes.' He said and kissed George on the nose. George gave him a confused look as Joe turned and stumbled into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for making pancakes as he went. Also ingredients that he did not need. 

'Joe, what am I gonna need mustard for?' George asked, lifting up the bottle as to make his point. Joe shrugged and pulled out a bowl and a pan from the cupboard. 

'Why do you think you make them?' 

'You're lazy.' George stated, snatching the bowl out of Joe's hand. He whisked the mixture together , swaying slightly on his feet. Joe leaned against the stove to watch him, head tilted to the side. George turned to see Joe in the way of where he needed to be and flicked the whisk at him, thick droplets of the batter landing on Joe's shirt. 

He moved away from the stove allowing George access to it so he could make the pancakes, instead coming up behind him as he flipped the mixture to kiss the back of his neck. Joe wrapped his arms around George's middle loosely and nosed the short hair at the base of his neck, mouthing at the skin underneath. George leaned back slightly in his embrace and tilted his head to the side to allow Joe further access to his neck. 

George hummed contentedly as he shovelled the last pancake from the pan onto a plate before covering Joe's hands with his own where they were rested on his stomach and linking their fingers together. His head lolled back against Joe's shoulder as Joe continued to mouth at the side of his neck, teeth gently scraping over the pale skin. 

'Pancakes.' George said, hesitant to move from his slumped position in Joe's arm. Joe sighed into George's neck and squeezed his arms tighter around George's waist before letting go and drunkenly swaying over to the pancakes that were waiting on the counter. 

'Thank you.' He said, pulling George in by the collar of his T-shirt and kissing him deeply. 'I love you.' 

**

'You think too loud.' Joe stated, his eyes closed as though he was still sleeping. George was half sat leaning on his elbows looking down at Joe. He breathed a quiet laugh and mumbled an apology. 

'Go back to sleep, it's early.' Joe said, blindly reaching an arm up to wrap around George's shoulder in order to pull him down into the bed. George went willingly, resting his head on Joe's bare chest. He listened closely to the rhythmic beating of Joe's heart and splayed his fingers across Joe's stomach. He stayed awake, though, watching the first few specs of dawn make their way through the curtains, blanketing the room in a layer of pale light as Joe snored underneath him. 

6am rolled around and George had his fingers buried in Joe's hair, running his fingers through the soft strands and looking happily through the crack in the curtains. When Joe stirred George looked down at him. 

'W'time is it?' Joe asked, pulling the covers up over his shoulders and turning to face George. He wrapped an arm around George's waist. 

'Six forty two.' George answered tiredly as he brushed his fingers down Joe's face. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

'Why you awake so early?' He mumbled. George shrugged lightly. 

'Couldn't sleep.' He sighed lying back into the pillows. 

'Shoulda... Shoulda woke me up.' Joe said around a yawn. He blinked his eyes open and looked up at George. 'You look like shit.' He stated though there was no sting in his voice. 

'Gee thanks Joe, real nice of ya.' 

'I didn't mean it like that ya idiot. How long've you been awake?' 

George thought for a moment and looked to the clock on the wall. 'Around four hours maybe.' He said before averting his eyes to the ceiling. 

'Jesus George, why didn't you wake me.' Joe seemed more awake now, eyeing him worriedly. 

'It's nothing Joe. Quit lookin' at me like that,' George huffed, 'I'm fine.' 

Joe sighed as fixed George with a hard stare. 'That's what you said last time and look what happened then.' He argued. 

'You know what I'm fine and fuck you for bringing that up.' 

George twisted out of Joe's grasp and got to his feet before stumbling from the room. Joe leaned on his elbows and looked at the door for a second before pushing himself from the bed and following George in to the front room. 

'George. Oh come on George where ya goin'?' Joe asked, walking over to the counter watching George pull on clothes from the dryer and his jacket before he picked up his keys from the table. Joe looked down at himself in only his boxers and groaned before walking over to the door. He shut it as George opened it and turned him around so they were facing each other. 

'Can we just talk about it?' Joe pleaded keeping one hand firmly against the door. 

'Just let me go, Joe.' George argued weakly, his shoulders already slumping in defeat. 'Please.' 

Joe sighed. He let go of the door resignedly and stepped back to let George out of the door. He watched George leave the apartment before slumping heavily against the arm of the sofa. He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned loudly. 

After half an hour he stood and made to the bedroom to get dressed and tidy up. If there was nothing else he could do to occupy himself then he would clean. It needed doing anyway. 

Hours passed and 7 turned into 11 and Joe got more and more worried. He rang George but he has left his phone on the night stand. He had called around their friends and asked for him but no one had seen him all day. He even rang Kelso's bar. He knew Gene was working that day but even he hadn't seen him. 

At two Joe had cleaned their flat from top to bottom and had considered building a shelf in their bedroom. He was pacing up and down their front room willing himself not to panic. 

When George walked in through the door Joe span around. His heart sank. 

'Hey Joe, I bought some peanut m&ms and the new Purge movie it's supposed to be good.'

'George what the fuck happened to you.' Joe snapped angrily, practically jumping over the sofa to get to him. 

'Oh, yeah, um somebody jumped me in the lot no big deal.' George laughed, looking sheepishly at the wall behind Joe's head. 

'No big deal?!' Joe asked in disbelief. 'You're kidding me right? Have you seen what they did to you?' 

'It's fine-' 

'Who was it?' Joe demanded, cupping Georges neck in his hand.

'I don't know I didn't see all I saw was their car but- listen, hey I'm fine see.' 

Joe sighed and took Georges hand, pulling him over to the sofa. He moved into the kitchen to grab a bowl of water and a cloth. 

Kneeling down in front of George he dipped the cloth into the water and started dabbing at the cuts on Georges face. He trailed the damp cloth across Georges bottom lip gently where it had burst. 

'What car was it?' He asked eventually, dealing with the cut over his eyebrow. 

'Blue mustang.' George replied, wincing at the pain before taking hold of Joe's wrist, halting his movement. 'You should see the other guys.' He joked. 

'Guys? How many were there?' Joe asked. He put the cloth into the bowl and set it to the side. 

'I don't know. Around four maybe. They didn't take anything, I didn't have anything on me.' 

Joe nodded though he was still ready to fight. If he ever found out who they were he would kill them. He said as much. 

George just pulled Joe into a kiss and rubbed their noses together gently. Joe pulled back and dragged his thumb across Georges bottom lip. 

'About this morning-' Joe started and George whined high in his throat. 

'I don't care about this morning.' He said, 'I don't wanna think about it.'

'Then what do you want.' Joe asked, squeezing George's thighs gently. George hummed thoughtfully and leaned forwards to mouth at Joe's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Joe's waist, albeit awkwardly from the position they were in and closed his eyes. 

'Sleep.' George yawned and Joe nodded. They both stood and made their way into the bedroom, George flinging off his clothes as he went. He stopped suddenly and looked around the room. 'You tidied?' George asked. 

'Yeah well what else was I supposed to do? You were gone for seven hours.' 

George turned and looked at Joe guiltily before pulling his shirt over his head. 

'Holy shit George.' Joe said in a hushed voice. He strode across the room and flattened his palm against George's stomach while he inspected his ribs. There was a large purplish bruise on his lower ribs and a few others scattered around it. George looked down. 

'That's why my ribs were hurting.' George huffed. 

'Does anywhere else hurt?' Joe asked and George shook his head slowly. Joe took George's face gently in one hand and kissed him softly. Pulling back he wrapped his arms around George's shoulders and hugged him. 'You're a fucking idiot, you know that.' He whispered. 

'And your a dick so now we're even.' George whispered back. 

'Do you want me to beat you up even more?' 

George giggled, turned his head and kissed Joe's jaw. Joe pulled George towards the bed and pushed him onto it carefully before crawling over the top of him. George pushed himself backwards until he was at the top of the bed and pulled Joe down by the collar of his shirt. 

'Kiss me.' George whispered and pulled Joe down more, smashing their lips together. George grunted in pain and Joe moved to pull back. 

'No,' George said, pushing himself up to attach their lips again, albeit gentler than the last time. 'It's fine.' 

'You're bleeding.' Joe commented and swiped his thumb across George's chin, catching the liquid to prove his point. George shrugged, licked his lower lip and resumed kissing Joe. 

George pushed himself up on to his elbows and winced before falling back flat onto the mattress. 

Sitting up Joe inspected George's bruises, brushing his fingers down George's sides lightly. George held his breath, tried not to move. He curled his fingers into the sheets and watched Joe's face. 

George shuddered slightly when Joe ran his palms gently up George's torso, leaned down to follow the trail with his lips. George sighed and thread his fingers through Joe's hair. 

'Fuck, Joe.' George whispered when Joe ran his hand over a particularly bruised spot. 

'Sorry.' Joe said. 'Listen, you get some sleep and I'll make dinner for when you wake up, okay?' Joe suggested.

'Next time you're gonna suggest sleep don't get all sexual with me.' George said though he yawned not moments later. 'Yeah, sleep.' He said and Joe dragged the covers across George's shoulders before he made his way from the bedroom. 

After a few minutes Joe picked up George's jacket and stuffed his hands in the pockets looking for something, anything. In the left pocket were a pack  
Of cigarettes and a crumpled sheet of paper.

Joe unfolded the piece of paper, his breath catching at the sight of a phone number scrolled messily across the otherwise blank sheet.

Leaning into the bedroom Joe checked to see if George was asleep and upon seeing he was, pulled out his mobile and dialled the number. 

After 3 rings someone answered. 

'Hello, Dr. Lipton speaking how may I help?' 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> babsroe.tumblr.com


End file.
